After paying my silent respects at the Khimki memorial (where, to their delight, I saluted a group of veterans who had come to lay flowers), I cycled to the memorial park in Khimki in which a range of Second World War armaments is displayed. There, under a mounted T-34 tank, a band of young army medics, in uniform, were played страшная современная Русская музыка with great vigour and elan, and at considerable volume, but with no discernable melody. It struck me as Vysotsky-lite in berets. I'd've preferred Danny Boy, or Lochiel's Farewell to His Guest. Despite the music--in fact probably because of it--a huge number of people were milling about, eating гречка from a smoking, wood-fired field-kitchen (such as Andrew Hamilton has outside his tent at the Kelso races), and listening to the musical exhibition. There were as many veterans as younger folk. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Wednesday 9 May 2007
Victory Day: celebrations in Khimki
After paying my silent respects at the Khimki memorial (where, to their delight, I saluted a group of veterans who had come to lay flowers), I cycled to the memorial park in Khimki in which a range of Second World War armaments is displayed. There, under a mounted T-34 tank, a band of young army medics, in uniform, were played страшная современная Русская музыка with great vigour and elan, and at considerable volume, but with no discernable melody. It struck me as Vysotsky-lite in berets. I'd've preferred Danny Boy, or Lochiel's Farewell to His Guest. Despite the music--in fact probably because of it--a huge number of people were milling about, eating гречка from a smoking, wood-fired field-kitchen (such as Andrew Hamilton has outside his tent at the Kelso races), and listening to the musical exhibition. There were as many veterans as younger folk. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
